


My Heart Wants to Come Home

by galacticlourry (orphan_account)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Christmas Time, Divorce, Kid Fic, M/M, but it's not a bad divorce, could be a reality just depends, not really cus that's just gross, so you should still read it, this is my first non oneshot i'm drooling, um who even reads tags anymore lesbihonest here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 11:03:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1093129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/galacticlourry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis doesn’t believe in a lot of things. He doesn’t believe that marriages should end, especially when you had made a point in your vows that you would be forever. He doesn’t believe that children under eight should be up past nine o’clock, chowing down on lollies and opening presents four days before Christmas. He also doesn’t believe that ex-husbands should show up on doorsteps with lollies and presents four days before Christmas. </p><p>However, it seems that all the things that Louis doesn’t believe in, are happening in this exact moment.  </p><p>And he’s not sure how to feel about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> yay for kid fics yay yay yay. (I feel like I write too many, but then again I probably write too many Larry fics so). This is totes mcgoats not angsty at all so don't let the divorce tag scare you. 
> 
> HEY THIS IS ACTUALLY A FANFIC I'M CRYING
> 
> or, if you want to get technical, it is a oneshot divided into four parts (but let's not get technical)
> 
> Title is from 5sos' Beside You. That's a pretty dope song
> 
> If this note is too long I apologize I just wanted to say:
> 
> Merry Christmas from me to you :)))

“’I don’t want to seem rude or anything, but why are you here?’ Ok no, that’s way too bitchy Lou, I can do better than that. ‘Hello ex-husband, whom neither I nor our kids have seen in months, how may I be of assistance to you on this cold winter eve?’” Louis sighs and turns away from his bedroom mirror. His life isn’t a play so he hasn’t a clue to why he’s rehearsing lines. 

You see, it’s just that Louis’ ex-husband is in his house. Downstairs. With their three kids. Who, by the way, should not be up past their bedtimes that were, approximately, twelve minutes ago. And perhaps you’re asking why is Louis in his room upstairs when everyone else is downstairs. Well, you see, that’s a funny story too. When Louis had opened the door, he hadn’t expected it to be Harry Styles-Tomlinson—or just Harry Styles now—standing on his doorstop with a sack full of presents like some fucking gorgeous Santa Claus. So what if he decided to tell the kids that their dad was here and then practically ran to his room for his secret stash of Scotch? He didn’t know that he was going to be judged in his own story.

Pulling himself together, and downing one last gulp of whiskey, he opens his door to the sound of children squeals and laughter and he cannot believe Harry is here.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy look!” Their six-year-old daughter, Libby runs over to Louis as he finishes the last step and holds up a sparkling pink football. “Look what Papa got for me!” Her name is engraved on every crevice and Louis feels sick to his stomach because Libby and her newfound passion for footie is totally Louis’ thing.

“That’s beautiful, Lib, but don’t you think you should wait to open presents for Christmas?”

Libby shrugs her small shoulders and tilts her mouth slightly, “Papa said it was okay.”

“Of course he did,” Louis mumbles as he picks her up and walks her back over to where four-year-old River is sitting next to his new bike, eating a gingersnap. “Hi Daddy,” he says, crumbs falling from his mouth. “Don’t talk with your gob full,” Louis scolds and lets Libby climb out of his arms before crouching down and wiping the boy’s mouth off. “Do you see my bike Daddy; it’s for a big boy because it doesn’t have tanning wheels.”

“They’re called tranny wheels River, jeez.” Libby says as she takes a frosted snowman cookie off the coffee table.

Louis shakes his head before looking over to where Harry is sprawled on the floor with their eight-month-old daughter, Ophelia, teething on his shirt. “Hello Opie it’s a little bit past your bedtime isn’t it?” Louis lifts the baby up and tosses her in the air, causing her to giggle and her dimples to pop out. Harry opens one eye before sitting up, ignoring the new wet spot near his ribs. “Hey Lou.”

Louis blows a raspberry on the baby’s cheek and completely ignores Harry. So much for those rehearsed lines. Louis’ much better at ignoring people anyways.

Harry stands up fully, arching his back in a stretch. “You can’t ignore me forever, you know.”

“Opie, you think Daddy is good at ignoring people don’t you?”

“Louis are you seriou—“

“Hey Opie, maybe Daddy will feel like talking to Papa when he knows that all their kids are tucked away in their beds, yeah?” Ophelia gurgles in response and Louis steps past Harry. “Come on kids, we’re going to bed.”

“But Daddy—“

“Now.” Louis snaps his fingers and the kids huff as they stand up from the carpet and march up the stairs. Twenty minutes later after brushing teeth, a potty break, and a quick bedtime story, Louis returns back downstairs to Harry who is sitting on the couch and scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t look up until Louis is standing right in front of him, hands on hips, and a ridiculous frown on his face. “Are you ready to talk now?” Harry asks, slightly amused and Louis doesn’t entertain the thought of strangling the lad. He simply does not.

“I suppose you’re home for holiday?” Louis crosses his arms and tries hard not to notice the tan line on Harry’s finger.

“You suppose right,” Harry pockets his phone and crosses his own arms. “Though you didn’t give me a very warm welcome.”

Louis’ mouth twitches with a smart comment, something along the lines of well, warm welcomes tend to be reserved for husband status. Or something like that. “It’s four days before Christmas,” he settles on instead.

Harry nods, “This I am aware.”

“And you couldn’t have just waited four days to bring over presents?” Harry opens his mouth to respond, but the word vomit button has been pressed and Louis isn’t in control anymore. “Oh, let me guess, you’re not going to be in town in four days right? You’ll probably be on a beach with some hot Swedish model soaking up sunrays while your children and I freeze our butts off at my mum’s house.”

Harry blinks at Louis for three Mississippi’s after the rant, the entertained smirk still plastered on his face. “You read way too much People Magazine you know that? Swedish models don’t actually go to beaches.”

Rolling his eyes, Louis sits down on the couch, leaving a cushion in between them. “Wow, thanks so, so much Haz for clearing that rumour up for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You’re such a dick.”

Harry laughs, a sound that doesn’t raise goose bumps on Louis’ arms. It doesn’t. “How are you, Lou?”

And oh. Okay. That is definitely a loaded question. One point for Styles.

“I’m uh,” Keep it simple Tomlinson. “Tired? Yeah, I’m tired.” Smooth.

Harry nods, continues to look at Louis as if he can read him like an open book. “You should get some sleep then.”

Louis rolls his eyes because if only sleep was that easy. “Can’t, have to raise three kids yanno.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighs—like he actually has something to sigh about. “How are they doing?”

Another loaded question, wow Harry really brought his A game today, huh?

Louis shrugs, pulling his legs up to his chest and his back to the armrest so that he’s facing Harry now. “I don’t think they have fully grasped what’s going on yet. They probably just think you’re touring…like, a lot.”

“And you’re okay with them thinking that?”

“Yes Doctor Phil I am.” Louis gripes because it is late and Harry is annoying. Harry smiles and yeah, Louis is going to strangle him with one of the couch cushions. “What?”

“I’d like to think that I’m a bit sexier than Doctor Phil.”

“Yeah, you would like to think that wouldn’t you?” Louis mumbles before reaching for the remote on the coffee table. “Do you mind getting some wine out of the cabinet; I mean you aren’t exactly a guest here.”

When Harry returns with two goblets and a bottle (all in one hand because he’s like some giant man with humongous hands) Louis is laughing at a Friend’s episode. Harry sits down on the cushion that was previously in between them and pours them both some wine. Louis takes his glass without preamble and continues to watch the television because this episode is just that good. The commercials are pretty interesting too and Louis doesn’t appreciate when Harry takes it upon himself to reach over and shut them off. “What are you doing?”

“Well since I’m not a guest I decided to turn off the telly.”

“Because?”

“Because we need to talk, Lou.”

Louis blinks. “We are talking. In fact, we are talking so much that someone looking in from the outside would think that we’re still married.” Oh. That wasn’t supposed to come out. 

It’s Harry’s turn to blink now. “Oh.”

Louis sighs because here Harry goes with the not-so-subtle pouty face that he knows pulls on everyone’s heartstrings and makes them feel guilty about not saying ‘bless you’ after he sneezes. Fucking Harry Styles. 

“What do you mean ‘oh’?”

“It’s just that I didn’t know you still felt that way.”

And ok, Louis has no fucking clue what this curly-haired bastard is talking about, but his head is starting to become fuzzy and clouded with the effects of wine and this evening has to end now. Before Louis does something stupid like kiss the pout off the bastard’s stupid, stupid face. “Well you don’t know a lot of things anymore Styles so,” Louis stands up abruptly, and no, he does not sway. “As lovely as everything has been, I think we ought to call it a night yeah?”

Harry smiles and shakes his fringe out of his eyes. “Yeah, totally.” They walk over to the front door where Louis may or may not shove Harry’s coat into the boy’s arms. “Tell the kids I’ll see them soon.”

Louis nods and crosses his arms, waiting rather patiently for his ex to put his coat on at sloth-speed. When Harry is finally bundled up, he leans down and brushes his lips against Louis’ cheek with a mumbled ‘goodnight’, leaving Louis disheveled and drunk and wanting.

And yeah, if this was Harry Styles’ Christmas gift to Louis Tomlinson, then fuck him.


	2. Year Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Custody problems and Louis sulking and I'm not really good at summaries. Zayn is in this woo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is longer because part one wasn’t long enough so. (also un'beta'd because like) (oh and disclaimer since i forgot it in the beginning: emphasis on 'fan FICTION')

 

Louis doesn’t know why he’s here to be honest. The room is too barren, the table is too long, and his lawyer is wearing something that makes Louis’ nose itch. It’s a cologne that smells too much like some sort of expensive wood and Louis didn’t even know that woods had smells, but they do. Louis fidgets with the collar of his shirt and takes a sip of his water as he meets Harry’s gaze from across the table. He’s smiling because that’s just what Harry Styles does nowadays. Smile and look unbelievably gorgeous. Louis might possibly resent him.

A throat clears and Louis’ glare snaps over to Harry’s lawyer—a woman who is wearing too much makeup. Not really, but Louis has been seeing her face for nearly two years now and she’s partly the reason Louis is single once again and he just doesn’t like her. Why did Harry have to hire a female lawyer anyways? Was he trying to say that he had switched to the other team because if so Louis owes Zayn a lot of money—

“My client, Mr. Styles, would like to discuss his views on part-time custody. We are all familiar with the circumstances of having to put the papers on hold,” Brittney, Louis is sure that is her name, slides a stack of papers over to Louis’ lawyer, Peter.  “And as I am sure Mr. Tomlinson is aware, my client is no longer on his world tour and therefore has requested to begin the custody rights.”

“I see,” Peter hums in appreciation and begins to look over the heap, which causes Louis to cross his arms because it’s like Peter doesn’t even try to be an attorney anymore. Louis peers over and sees various weeks highlighted, all except for the week coming up. “And where does Mr. Styles stand on holiday guardianship?” Peter questions once he spots the week as well. _Yeah?_ Louis silently asks Harry with a raised eyebrow.

“He—“ Brittney begins, but is cut off by Harry patting her hand.

“I think I ought to have the kids for next week. Just because you, Louis, had the kids last Christmas, and I think we might as well start with the tradition that every other year they come to my house.”

Louis gawks at him and is about to curse him out for deciding things such as this when Peter interjects. “I think that is a brilliant idea.” Louis could fire him. But he won’t because Peter actually, sort of is one of the best attorneys in England, but who said it was okay for him to decide these important life decisions. Peter glances over at him with a look that says ‘everything is okay, I’m handling this,’ and Jesus, he better.

He doesn’t. And that’s why Louis is shooting death lasers at his ex-husband from across the table because he always gets what he wants. Stupid, manipulative, dimpled-face Harry Styles.

-

It’s three days later, and Louis is going slightly insane. Libby and River are running around the house, searching for toys to take over Harry’s and Ophelia is wobbling and keeps snatching ornaments off the lower branches of the tree. Whoever said raising kids was a joyous experience clearly had never encountered actual breathing children. “You guys have two minutes and if you’re not in my car you are not going!” Louis says, scooping up Ophelia who has a plastic, red candy cane in her mouth. He is pulling her hat snug on her head when he hears the sound of pounding feet descending the staircase. “We’re ready Daddy!” River declares and his arms are full of toys. Louis’ eyes wander over to his daughter who has dolls spilling from her duffel bag. “Are there any clothes in that bag, Libby?” The seven year old giggles and nods vigorously. “Of course, Daddy.”

When they are all buckled in the car and well on their way, Louis begins to get anxious. His grip tightens on the steering wheel and he lets out deep breaths because although his kids are about to be gone for a week, he can’t have a bloody panic attack while they’re in the car. And why does Harry live so far away anyways? His house is basically across the city (not really, just forty minutes away) and that means Louis won’t be able to swing by without looking like an insane, overprotective parent because the “just going to the store and decided to drop by” excuse that he uses when Niall or Liam or Zayn are babysitting won’t exactly work this time.

The kids don’t cry when Louis pulls into the driveway and Louis isn’t hurt by it. He’s not.

“Hey, there’s no running!” Harry scolds once all the kids’ coats are off and they are bounding down the halls of his massive house.  “I’ll drop them off Saturday?”

No. You can drop them off tonight. “Yeah, that’s fine.” Louis mumbles, peering around the hallway. There has to be a boob painting somewhere, it _is_ the home of a rock star.

Harry turns around and piques an eyebrow. “Have you found what you’re looking for?”

Louis bites the inside of his cheek and shrugs. “Just looking for a boob painting.”

“A boob painting?” Harry looks as if he’s about to double over with laughter.

“Is something funny? I’m serious Styles, if I see an inappropriate painting anywhere in here—“

“You won’t.”

“Well,” Louis jingles his keys in his coat pocket. “I guess I better go.”

“You can stay for a little while if you want. We’re probably just going to make some Christmas cookies or something.”

Louis shakes his head and turns for the door. “As tempting as that sounds H, this is your time with our children and I don’t want to impose.” And if Louis is indirecting in real life then hey, it is what it is.

Harry shrugs and picks up a restless Opie. “Suit yourself. Say ‘see you later’ to Daddy.” Ophelia waves and Louis blows her a kiss before stepping back outside.

“’Ello?”

“Zayn,” Louis greets shakily before he unlocks the door to the vehicle, phone pressed between his ear and shoulder blade. “Can you meet me at my house, like now? You can let yourself in.”

-

“You should invite him, mate.”

Louis scoffs and picks up one of Libby’s dolls off the carpet. He should really crack down on the “no throwing things you care about on the floor” rule, but the kids will undoubtedly ignore it just as Harry had. Then again, the things that found their selves on the ground probably weren’t cared about in the first place. Wow, Louis should put that on a greeting card. He places the doll on the table and focuses back on Zayn who is sprawled out on the couch. “Why do you suggest that?”

“Because Lou, it’s two days until your birthday and you’re having an actual birthday party after who knows how many years,” It’s been nine years.  “And you might as well.”

“I might as well do a lot of things,” Louis sighs and motions for Zayn to move his legs so he can sit down. “For instance, I might as well just sign over the full-custody papers since the bastard seems to have my kids more than I do nowadays.” Which, like, isn’t true, but it feels like it is and that’s all that matters.

Zayn shakes his head, “Is that what you’re calling him now?”

Louis shrugs, he calls the boy a lot of things—many that he has to refrain from using around the kids. But see, the kids aren’t home and quite frankly, Louis has a shitload to say. This being the reason he called Zayn before he had pulled out the driveway because Zayn would actually listen. He wouldn’t laugh at everything that came out his mouth and he also wouldn’t guilt him out of saying “mean things” about their fellow band mate. Apparently, even after all these years, Liam still hadn’t learned that “mean” is just something Louis _does_.  The best thing about Zayn though, is that the bloke would probably join in with the bashing of Mr. Rock Star Styles. “He’s a dick for stealing my kids away from. And you’re a dick for suggesting that I’d invite him to _my_ party.”

Zayn throws his head back with laughter and if he wasn’t Louis’ best friend, Louis would have killed him a long time ago. “Aw cheer up, Lou! He didn’t steal them and besides, they’ll be home before you know it.”

“That’s not the point!” Louis flings himself over Zayn who grunts before shifting so that his chin is sitting on top of Louis’ head. “What’s the point then?”

“The point is that my lawyer is dumb and that wanker of an ex better be thanking his lucky stars that I agreed to him having the kids this week.”

“And why did you agree if you knew it was during your birthday and Christmas?”

“Because I’m dumb.”

“And totally weak for your ex-husband.” Dammit Zayn.

“No I’m not.” Louis growls and Zayn places a hand over his elbow mid-jab.

“Don’t get abusive on me Tommo; I’m just stating facts here.”

“Well. Don’t.”  Maybe Louis should have called Liam after all. “And stop being annoying before you’re uninvited to my party.”

“Yeah, like I actually won’t find anything better to do than go to an old man’s birthday party on Christmas Eve.”

“Your sarcasm is not needed. Dick.”

“I mean if you’re asking…” Zayn makes for his belt buckle and Louis is standing up and throwing a pillow at the boy’s head.

“Keep it in your pants, Malik! What, is Liam not giving you enough affection?”

Zayn is laughing again and now that Louis thinks about it, he should have called Niall after all. “Don’t worry about me and my man. Worry about yours.”

“Shut up.” Zayn is dumb. “Why did I call you over here in the first place?”

“Because you wanted to talk about something,” Zayn reminds him and pats the cushion of the couch and Louis sighs before sitting back down.

He puts his head back on Zayn’s chest and crosses his arms. “Divorce is stupid. Don’t get divorced Zayn, in fact you made a good decision by not getting married to Perrie.” And although Louis can’t see, he knows that Zayn is rolling his eyes because he wasn’t planning to get married to her in the first place, but that a story for another time. Preferably a time where Louis isn’t sulking.

“Lou, mate, it’s been what—a year and a half? Do you still regret signing the papers?”

And like, who does Zayn think he is, asking all these personal questions?

“It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, just wondering that’s all.” Zayn adds on a moment later.

“I,” Louis swallows around the lump in his throat and releases a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I mean, I thought it was going to be easier as time went on, but it’s not getting easier, Zayn. I didn’t know it would feel like my heart is being ripped from my body when I drop the kids off and I didn’t know that I would still _want_ the bastard. Fuck, Zayn, I still want him and it hurts because I know that he doesn’t want me.”

“How do you know that babe?” Zayn hums and he’s rubbing circles into Louis’ back because he’s a good friend and all of Louis’ good friends know that’s the only way to comfort him.

Louis sniffles and turns his head so that he can bury his nose into Zayn’s jumper. “He’s dating Grimshaw. After all these years, Nick has finally made a move. Fucking prick, he is.” Louis lets out a wet laugh because he realizes that Harry and Grimmy being together isn’t the problem. He closes his eyes and centers himself, focusing on the size of the circles being massaged into his back before he continues. “So if I invite Harry, he will probably bring Nick. And even if he doesn’t, I doubt that Harry will take the kids all the way to Anne’s just so he can come to my dumb party. Which will result in the kids being home with Grimshaw and I’m not okay with that…” Louis’ eyes become wide as he realizes what he just said. “Holy shit!” He sits up and pulls out his cell phone. “I swear to God if that long neck, wannabe hipster is anywhere near my kids—“

“Lou, stop,” Zayn hits the phone out of the boy’s hands and rolls his eyes when Louis looks at him like he just kicked a puppy.  But Louis’ phone is sort of a puppy and people can’t just be hitting it like that.

“But Zayyyynnn,”

“But nothing. Harry isn’t that dumb to have Grimmy around your children. And even if he _is_ that dumb, Nick isn’t that bad of an influence. I mean, you let Niall babysit them every other week—“

“Only because you want to have a boys’ night out!”

“Don’t try to put the blame on me, Lou; you could easily call Liam to babysit. Besides, you and Nick used to be friends if I do recall.”

Yeah, before he found out how much Nick wanted to get into Harry’s pants. “Those were dark times for me, Zayn.”

“Whatever. I still think you should invite Harry.”

Louis groans because obviously Zayn isn’t going to drop this subject anytime soon. “I don’t even have an outfit picked out.”

“Lucky for you,” Zayn pushes Louis off the couch so he can stand up and stretch. “You have an awesome best friend who knows how to pick out clothes.”

Louis used to have a husband who knew how to pick out clothes, but an awesome best friend could work too.

-

The week doesn’t last forever—much to Louis’ relief—and soon he’s opening his front door to Harry and his kids again. It’s close to nine so River and Ophelia are drooling on both of Harry’s shoulders and Louis points him to the staircase that leads to their bedrooms.

“Hi Daddy!” Libby says before she starts in on the magical adventures of Papa’s house. “Me and River climbed a tree in Papa’s backyard and we had so many presents underneath the Christmas tree! Oh, and Opie learned how to say ‘banana’! It was so fun you should have came Daddy! And, and….”

Louis isn’t going to cry, he really isn’t. He’s actually really happy that the kids had such a good time without him. Harry _is_ their dad too and they should have an equal amount of fun at both houses! Who is he kidding, there is nothing equal about divorce, contrary to the popular beliefs of divorce advocates. Louis is going to lose his kids to their own father who just happens to be the world’s favourite Harry fucking Styles and he can’t handle it. He can’t handle it.

Libby takes a breath after her rambling and suddenly Louis arms are filled with her small body. “Wow what is this for, Pumpkin?”

Libby squeezes him and pulls back to look in his eyes. “Even though Papa’s house was cool and everything, I still love your lullabies the best.”

And yeah. Louis is definitely crying now as he squeezes his daughter and gives her face tons of kisses. Because guess what? Score one for Tommo, that’s what.


	3. Year Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis is out of town and Niall single-handedly ruins River's childhood. (Harry POV)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this is really short and probably has grammar mistakes because I wanted to post before twelve in the UK because Louis' birthday OMFG MY BABY IS TURNING TWENTY TWO
> 
> enjoy :)

“It’s fine Lou, really, everything is fine.” Harry dips the washcloth into the tub and squeezes it over Ophelia’s head. “How’s Libby doing?”

“She’s completely gone off into dreamland in the front seat. Can you believe that she used the ‘Daddy’s little Princess’ card on me?”

Harry chuckles because, yeah, he _can_ believe that. “Are you guys on your way back then?”

“Eh…no. Since Lib’s team won the game, they go on to the next round of the tournament. Which is tomorrow. Ha, happy birthday to me huh?”

 “Aw it’s not that bad. At least we know that she got the footie gene from you,” Louis snorts. “But I’m going to let you go so that I can finish giving Opie a bath.”

“Give her a kiss for me!”

“Haha, alright—“

“And H?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for watching her and River for me. I mean, I know it’s technically not ‘your year of Christmas’, but I really appreciate it.”

“Lou, it’s no problem, seriously. They’re my kids too.”

“Yeah, but…” Harry can hear Louis biting his words back and choosing a different route all together. “Ok. I’ll see you Christmas morning. Regardless if Libby comes home a mini football champ or not. Goodnight Haz.”

“Night Lou.”

Harry shakes out one of his hands before squeezing his phone back into his trouser pocket. “Let’s finish washing you, Ladybug.”

Ophelia splashes the water around her. “Papa can we sing the One Thing song?”

Harry presses a finger to the little girl’s nose, leaving a soap sud on the tip. “What happened to singing the ABC’s?”

Ophelia rolls her eyes and sticks out her tongue, “That songs is for babies and I am three years old!”

“Ok, ok, but you have to start it off…”

Three verses and a clean toddler later, Harry has his towel-clad daughter on his hip when he hears a small knock on the bathroom door. “What is it, Riv?”

River pokes his head in and smiles—his two bottom teeth missing. “Guess what!”

“What?”

“Santa Claus is downstairs!”

Harry raises an eyebrow in amusement, “Is that so?”

“I’m being serious, Papa! He’s downstairs, come on!” River reaches for his hand and pulls him down the stairs before Harry can blink.

“River slow do—“

“Ho! Ho! Ho! Happy Christmas ya munchkins!”

And if Harry wasn’t holding Opie securely, he probably would have dropped her. “Hi Santa,” he greets through clenched teeth. Ophelia bats at Harry’s chest and he lets her down while keeping his glare leveled on Niall. Niall Horan. Harry doesn’t even recall giving him a key to his house but whatever. “What are you doing here?”

Niall picks up Ophelia and tosses her in the air. “Just came by to spread some Christmas cheer!”

“But it’s not Christmas, yet Santa.” Ophelia says in between laughter. River is standing in front of Niall with his eyes wide. “I like your accent Santa.”

“Ho ho ho, why thank you little boy! I like your green eyes.”

Harry shakes his head, “Come on Opie, let’s go put you in your jammies. River you can stay here with Santa if you want.”

“Really?” River’s eyes grow impossibly larger as Harry nods his head. He shoots Niall a warning glance, which he just laughs off, and takes Ophelia up to her room.

“Ten minutes for play time before bed alright?” He says once he has her dressed in her favourite polka-dot onesie.

“Yeah, Papa, I know.” Ophelia says before she runs over to her play kitchen.

Harry chuckles before going back downstairs to tell River the same thing all until he sees the boy close to tears, staring up at Niall. “What’s wrong Bubba?” Harry asks slowly.

“Uncle Niall is Santa?”

Niall shakes his head and before Harry can stop the following childhood-ruining event from transpiring—

“Kid, there is no Santa.”

“Niall!” Harry rushes over to the now crying six year old and pats his back. “Don’t listen to him River, of _course_ Santa is real.” He mouths at Niall to ‘Shut the fuck up you wanker’ as he consoles his crying child.

Everyone jumps when Harry’s pocket begins to ring and he passes the slightly hysterical child to Niall who pats his back awkwardly. And Lord behold, it’s Louis Tomlinson.

“H-hello?”

“Sorry i forgot to tell you to tell the kids good—is that crying in the background?”

“Um…no.” Harry puts his finger to his mouth, but River doesn’t quiet down.

“Harry, is everything okay?” Louis’ voice comes out slow and pitched and Harry is pretty sure he is going to kill Niall.

“Um…”

“Harry,” And if Harry doesn’t just come out with it Louis will kill _him_.

“Ok, don’t get mad, or like, drive off a cliff, but River may have just found out that Santa isn’t real.”

-Silence-

“Excuse me?”

“Uh...”

“HOW? WHO TOLD HIM? WAS IT YOU?”

“No, no of course it wasn’t me, it was Niall!”

“Hey Tommo,” Niall calls over the crying.

“Harry, put me on speaker.” Louis pauses for a moment until he hears Harry mutter an ‘ok’. “Niall I’m going to kill you when I get home who the hell do you think you are ruining my son’s childhood? Are you INSANE?”

And if Harry loses his hearing for four mintues due to Louis’ yelling, well. 


	4. Year Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy ending because Louis' birthday :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rushed this majorly because on my way to a Christmas Party ha ha -nervous laughter- All typos belong to me and I hope you guys enjoy

-12 years prior-

“Hey wake up.”

Louis squints his eyes open and groans when he sees green eyes looking down at him. He lets out a grunt that sounds a little like “Harry.”

“Morning babe.”

“What…do…you want?”

Harry dips down and Louis moves his head to the side to give him space. “Happy twenty second Lou Lou.”

“Ugh,” Louis presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Please don’t remind me.”

“But _Louis_ , guess what,”

“Harry. No.”

“Please, just once?”

Louis shakes his head and rolls over on his stomach, an ‘oof’ coming from Harry when he falls to the side of his bed. “Go back to sleep.”

It’s thirty seconds—Louis counts—before he feels Harry trailing his fingertips up and down his back. “I don’t know about you…”

“Harry!” Louis slaps the pillow over his head to which Harry pulls right back off. Harry climbs on top of Louis’ back and lays flat until his lips are ghosting over the shell of the boy’s ear. “But I’m—“

“Stop.”

“Feeling…”

“No.”

“How are you feeling Lou?”

Louis groans. “Shut up.”

“I’m not letting you go back to sleep if you don’t say how you’re feeling.”

“Whateve—ow!” Louis flips around and stares up at Harry with wide eyes. “Did you just _pinch_ me?”

Harry smiles and slaps his hand over Louis’ chest, edging his index finger and thumb closer to the right nipple. “Say it.”

Louis goes to move Harry’s hand, but Harry slaps him away and puts both of the boy’s hands in one of his. “You’re feeling kinky this morning, Styles. You better slow down.”

Harry slaps Louis’ chest again and smiles down sweetly. “Say it or Nippy gets it.”

“Nippy?” Louis lets out a sharp laugh when Harry licks a stripe over his nipple. “You know Harry, you can lick me all you want, but I’m not going to sing that shit song.”

“But _Louis_ ,” Harry flops down and puts his head on Louis’ chest. “You _have_ to!”

“Ha, no.”

“You’re only twenty two, like, once.”

“Don’t care.”

Harry sits up and slaps Louis’ nipple again before he crosses his arms.  “Louis you better say it or we’re not friends anymore.”

Louis rolls his eyes, but can’t help that smile growing on his face. “Who said I wanted to be friends with you?”

An intense staring contest follows his statement and Louis only loses because Harry puts his hand to Louis’ dick and squeezes. “Say it or no birthday sex. Or regular sex. Ever. I’m not kidding either you know I can hold off, I’ve done it before.”

“Haz,” Louis reaches for his arm, but Harry pulls away and adds more pressure. “Fine ok. Twenty two. Happy?”

“No. Sing it.”

“But you’ve been telling me to say it—”

More pressure.

“Okay, okay you bully. _Twenty two_.”

Harry stares at him for a second before he’s busting out laughing, flopping back down on Louis’ chest. “You’re such a dork.”

Louis scoffs, “Me? You’re the one who gets off to your ex-girlfrie—ow! Don’t pinch!”

Harry smiles into Louis chest and moves up so he can give him a good morning kiss. “Happy birthday Louis.”

 

-present day-

 

“Okay you’re going to be on your best behavior at your father’s house, right guys?”

“Of course Daddy—“

“—Yes—”

“—Yes sir!”

“Alrighty then—River don’t put snow in your mouth! What is wrong with you?”

River spits out the snow, which causes Ophelia to giggle into her mitten and Libby to roll her eyes. “See what I have to deal with, Daddy?”

Louis pats her head and continues up the driveway. He lifts Ophelia so that she can ring the doorbell and jumps when Libby squeals moments later. “Uncle Liam!”

Louis blinks and sets down the four year old. “Liam?”

“Happy birthday mate!” Liam pulls him in for a hug while the kids run into the house.

“Uh…thanks. What are you—?”

“Doing here? I honestly don’t know, but Harry is back there in his room. Hey guys!” Liam scoops up all three kids into his arms and turns them around in circles. Louis stands there dumbfounded for a moment before shaking his head and walking down the hallway.

“Haz, why is Liam here?” He asks as he steps into the bedroom. It’s smells like someone just got out the shower.

“Oh, hey Lou. Happy birthday!” Harry voice travels from where Louis guesses is his walk-in closet,

“Thanks,” Louis tries not to look around the room because for one, he isn’t rude, but his eyes roam around anyways. There are plenty of awards hanging on the walls alongside pictures of their children; Louis gapes at all the new ones Harry has received since they split apart. His eyes fall on the California King in the middle of the room and Louis can’t help but cringe as he imagines how many boys—and girls—have laid there. And yeah, Louis knows first-hand how shitty tabloids are especially with which celebrity is shacking up which, but still.

He jumps when Harry’s voice starts back up again, “I asked Li to watch the kids while you and I go out for your birthday dinner.”

Wait. “My what?”

“Your birthday dinner. Remember the text I sent you, like, a week ago?”

Yeah, Louis does actually. He scratches his neck as he walks over to the closet. “I thought it was a joke to be honest.”

Harry hums and tosses a shirt at Louis before turning back around to look for pants. “Well that’s silly. Why would I joke about your birthday?”

“Because,” Louis looks at the shirt in his hand and silently gags. See-through. “Well I don’t know. But if we _are_ going out for dinner please, please don’t wear something this tacky.”

Harry turns around and gasps, taking the shirt out of Louis’ grasp. “That’s not nice.”

Louis shrugs, “You’re like what, thirty? You should be wearing suits by now.”

Harry snorts, “First off, I’m thirty one. And suits are boring. You’re not wearing a suit.”

“I didn’t know you were actually taking me out for dinner.”

“Surprise?” Harry smiles innocently.

-

And yeah, surprise indeed. Louis breathes out his nose and glares at Harry through the night. “I hate you.”

Harry laughs, his breath coming out in foggy puffs. “Cheer up, Lou. It’s just dinner.”

“On the go?”

“Yeah? I mean, I don’t want to leave the kids with Liam too long, it is my year after all.”

“Why did you call him anyways?” Louis asks, holding his pizza box in his gloved hands for warmth.

Harry shrugs and sticks his hands in his jean pockets. “He was the least likely to set the house on fire out of the other two.”

Louis cracks a smile because, yeah, that’s true.

They walk in silence for a few minutes, watching the streetlight enlarge their shadows. “I didn’t know you lived by a Pizza Hut.”

Harry barks out a laugh before slapping his hands over his mouth and yeah, Louis misses that. “Louis we have twenty more minutes until we get back to the house. I don’t live by anything.”

“Well that’s good. At least I know the kids have proper meals when they’re over yours.”

Harry tilts his mouth so that only one dimple is poking out. “Yeah, but they have more fun at yours.”

And oh how that’s not true. But Louis doesn’t want this—whatever _this_ is—to turn into a divorce/guilt/blame fest so he changes the topic altogether. “So you’re going back on tour next month? That should be exciting.”

Harry looks at him and Louis knows that this is definitely about to turn into a divorce/guilt/blame fest. “Lou, I’ve been touring for most of my career. It kind of isn’t exciting anymore.”

Louis sighs and focuses on the heat coming from the pizza. “Well why don’t you _stop_ going on tour?”

“Yeah, like it’s that easy.”

“It actually is Harry believe it or not. One Direction stopped touring because we needed a break.”

“And then we broke up.”

“We didn’t…” he wasn’t going to explain it to Harry again. The band didn’t break up, Harry just went on and did something different after the one year break. Then Libby was on her way and Harry was getting ready to tour again, by himself, and suddenly One Direction was no more. They didn’t sit down and decide to go different ways it just sort of, happened. Just like their divorce. There wasn’t a series of fights that set them off and they weren’t even growing apart, it was just that one day they were married and the next they weren’t.

Except, if you asked Harry, he wouldn’t shrug it off as ‘growing pains’. He would blame it on his career, his not being home enough, and the cheating rumours in the tabloids. Rumours are different when you have a family; they hurt more, cause bruises not only on the couple, but on the kids as well. And Harry couldn’t allow that. He couldn’t allow his kids to grow up in the crossfires of his fame and so he told Louis that maybe things would work better if they weren’t together.

Which is why they’re here, four years later, walking side by side with individual steaming boxes of pizza.

“Lou?”

“Yes?”

“Do you ever think, like, maybe this divorce thing—“

“Harry.”

“No really Lou, what if us being divorced isn’t the best thing anymore?”

Louis shakes his head, “Best thing for whom, Harry? For the kids? For you?”

“For everyone. Like I know I’m the one who said we ought to go our separate ways, but that was four years ago! A lot of things have died down now.”

“Your career hasn’t. Your flying around the world every other month hasn’t.” _The kids asking where you are every other month hasn’t. My love for you hasn’t._

“Louis, I can’t control that—“

“Yes you can, actually. All you have to do is grow some balls and tell your management that you need a break so you can spend time with your family.”

Harry looks at Louis for a moment and that’s when Louis notices that they have stopped in the middle of the forgotten road. Just trees and trees around them and once again, Louis wonders why Harry lives so bloody far away.

“Stop looking at me like that—“

“I love you.”

Louis blinks. “What?”

“I love you.”

Louis shakes his head and begins to walk again. “Shut up.”

Harry reaches for Louis’ arm and pulls him back. “I do Louis.”

Louis searches his gaze before dropping his eyes to the ground between them. “Don’t say something you don’t mean, Styles.” And Louis isn't bluffing either, because no one should utter those three words if they’re lying. And he blocks out the voice in his head that tells him the boy isn’t lying.

Harry places his hand on Louis’ cheek and Louis feels his face go red from more than just the bitter cold. “Louis, shit, you know I love you.”

Louis nods and demands his eyes to stop watering, because now is not the time.

“It’s been four years Lou and I still love you. And maybe divorce was the right thing back then, but it’s not now. And you can’t tell me that you don’t miss everything that we had too.”

And God, did they have so much.

“I do,” Louis whispers. Four years is a long time to not wake up to the person you had been for eleven years prior. “I miss us.”

Harry nods and swipes his thumb across Louis’ cheek to catch the tear that is falling from his eyes.

“I’m crying because it’s cold,” Louis whispers to save the last part of dignity he has left and Harry laughs and continues staring down at Louis like he’s the reason the sun rises every morning.

Louis can’t deny that Harry is still his soul mate. And even if things don’t work out in the end, they can at least try. Because for one thing, nothing compares to _LouisandHarry_.

So they kiss. And they smile into the kiss.

And Louis kisses back because it’s his birthday and he can kiss back if he wants to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is what you guys meant by 'happy ending' because if not, well.


End file.
